Distant Summers


All of our summers seem so distant now, only ghosts

sitting in lifeguard’s chairs, empty picnic tables

our memories of families happy

and running through

knee high grass


for the thrill

of autumn winds,

and temporary color.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies


Quiet Mist


I like to watch the mist roll in, covering the mountains, and rain

wrapping around a cool fall day, tapping gently on our roof

it all reminds me somehow that water brings life

unhindered, and that quiet times

can wash us, taking away

our noise.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

Lift Your Sails


You may need to rebuild your vessel, but even if you do

make sure you lift your sails, expecting the wind, expecting to succeed

conquering the waves, holding on tightly to the helm

as you lean into the grey, into the lighting.


Let the wind take you, to that place

where there is only peace and calm seas, the sun

leading you to the endless horizon,

and where your sails are full

of courage.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

Of the Plants and the Seas


In the beginning there were only the plants, and the seas,

teaching our spirits yet to be born, to reach

up, and to reach out. As an after thought

people were invented much later.


And the earth still longs for us,

to learn the ways

of the plants

and seas.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

The Discarded Muse


As she watched her human, she noticed he was in a dream world again. His feet gently walking, barely touching the fallen leaves, deep in the forest. A twig snapped, he froze not moving.

Hooves tore through the silence of the forest, as two deer bolted over the brush. The muse waited, hovering over the forest floor, drawing her long cloak around her.

But the human surprised her, by looking straight at her and saying: “No thanks, I already know what to write today…..”

She harrumphed, turning and disappearing in the trees. She thought, “If this keeps up I won’t be needed for much longer….”


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

The Heart of a Lion


With all that we are facing, may the heart of a lion

infuse your work, giving you courage, filling your words,

filling your painting, with a roar you have never had before

and may your art be filled with light.

We are not done here yet.


Poetry © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

image from google

The Rider


There was no saddle, as he gently nudged the horse forward – his favorite, the black and white, long mane so graceful. He shifted slightly, as he looked up and in one magnificent motion, they lunged – attacking the hill, the horse snorting his approval.

They aimed for the ridge, passing the pine trees and spruce. The smell overcame his leather. Higher and higher they climbed, with the muscles of the horse rippling, straining, hooves digging into the earth and rock.

And then they were at the top, where the large oak was on fire with yellow and red. And the eagle waited patiently in the oak, as he had promised. But it was the hawk that gently landed on his  shoulder, that encouraged him the most.

It was then that the poet knew, he was home again.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies